


It's Lonely On The Spiral Down To Crazy

by ironfamjam



Series: Irondad Bingo [9]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Peter Parker, Gen, Kidnapped Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Peter Parker, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, imposter!tony, slight rogue avengers bashing but that gets resolved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 23:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19733803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironfamjam/pseuds/ironfamjam
Summary: Tony Stark is presumed dead when a mission goes terribly wrong. So when he returns unharmed, telling a story of a daring escape, the world celebrates the return of a hero.Everyone, except Peter.Because he might have Tony’s face and voice and even his goddamn gait. But Peter knows it isn’t Tony. And he doesn’t care if no one believes him.Irondad Bingo Prompt: Presumed Dead





	It's Lonely On The Spiral Down To Crazy

Peter had talked to him on the phone just last week. It was Tuesday, he was on his way to school, he had a math test that he had tried to study for, but then Spidermanning happened and Ned’s crisis with Betty and Brooklyn Nine Nine had come back, so the studying part kinda fell through. But! He was trying to be positive! And so he was scanning through some practice problems on his phone when it burst into a loud rendition of the AC/DC song- apparently not Led Zeppelin- chosen specifically for Tony’s calls.

“Hey Mr. Stark! What’s up?” Peter flashed his bus pass to the driver, grabbing onto a hanging loop for the inevitably bumpy ride. 

“Nothing, just wanted to check in on you, see if you were doing alright.” Peter’s eyes narrowed. 

Tony sounded weird, an odd kind of falsetto in his voice, like he was wincing through something terrible. It’s not that Tony never called, or checked in, but there was…something wasn’t right. 

“Mr. Stark? Everything all good up there? You’re not in trouble with Miss. Potts again are you?”

Tony laughed- and it was genuine enough that the tension in Peter’s shoulders loosened. Just a little. “Hey. Whose side are you on anyways?” 

“The right one.” Peter teased.

“Ain’t that the truth.” and the smile in Tony’s voice brought one to Peter too.

“I just wanted to call and make sure you didn’t need anything. No upgrades or repairs or any other requests from your favourite billionaire.”

Peter pursed his lips, rocking on the balls of his feet. “No.” he said, dragging the word, “I’m all good up here. Why? You going somewhere?” 

Tony sighed, and Peter could practically picture him rubbing the bridge of his nose, his crows feet deepening around his eyes. “The others want to meet me, somewhere far, far away- dramatic little shits-” Peter snorted, did Tony think he was _undramatic?_ “Point is, I gotta bounce for a bit, but I wanted to check in before I did.” 

Peter ducked his head, trying to hide how touched he was though he knew Tony couldn’t see him. “No, I’m totally good over here Mr. Stark, no need to worry.” 

But the fact that he _did_ worry- Peter smiled, small and soft.

“When are you heading out?”

“Tonight probably.” 

“You’ll be back soon?” Peter hoped that didn’t sound over-bearing or worse, clingy, but Tony didn’t seem to react at all, so he figured he was all good.

“I better be. I distinctly remember your lovely aunt coercing me into a dinner this weekend.”

Peter laughed, “Yeah, May’s pretty persuasive.” 

“Well as long as she isn’t cooking…” 

Snorting, Peter tightened the strap of his bag, “I’ll make sure we order something in. You like Chinese?”

“Actually, have you ever tried a shawarma?” 

The bus announced the next stop and Peter perked up, quickly apologizing to everyone in front of him as he tried to pull the string. “Hey Mr. Stark, I gotta go, but good luck on your mission! I’ll see you Friday!”

“Yeah…alright kid. Be good. See ya.” 

If Tony sounded disappointed, Peter didn’t notice. 

If he could go back in time, he would have never hung up. He would have begged him to stay. If he could go back in time…there would be so many things he would change. 

It was Thursday and May looks up at him like she’s suddenly just remembered something incredibly important. “Don’t you have your internship today? As in your actual internship.”

Peter scrunched his face, trying not to laugh. “Technically, I feel like Spiderman is also kinda an internship?”

“No, that’s good-hearted hooliganism.”

Peter grinned, “Is it weird that I’m into that?” 

May rolled her eyes, her lips turning up. “But no, it’s all good. Mr. Stark said he’s on a mission.” May opened her mouth and Peter quickly interjected to protect Tony’s honor, “But he said he’ll be back for dinner tomorrow so don’t worry!!” 

Satisfied, May went back to her book. “Well since you have all this extra time then, I suppose you can do all those dishes over there right?”

May’s laugh drowned out his groaning.  
He was in the middle of stacking the dinner plates on the bottom rack of the dishwasher when it struck him that maybe Tony would be back by now. It was Thursday night, the mission wasn’t supposed to take long, and if he was supposed to come to their house tomorrow then maybe he was already here?

It wasn’t like he was worried. He wasn’t concerned about _Iron Man_. Tony was a hero. _The_ hero. Capable, resilient, innovative beyond all compare. Peter had no doubt that whatever he went there to accomplish he had succeeded. But…it wouldn’t hurt to hear from him. Just a confirmation. A validation of what Peter believed in so fervently it was a breath away from a guarantee. 

Wiping his hand on the towel, Peter pulled his phone out of his back pocket, opening his Favourites page, finding Tony’s name with the little cheeseburger emoji next to it. 

_Hey Mr. Stark!_

_Just wanted to check in and see if you were doing ok-_

Peter shook his head, no, that was awful.

_Just popping in to say hi_

Oh God that was _worse_.

_I hope you like chicken shawarmas_

Peter hesitated, finger poised above the send button. Slowly, he sent the message off, staring at the little checkmarks, still grey from being unseen. Huh. That was weird. Only one check mark…Maybe Tony turned off his phone? Or maybe he was somewhere with no signal.

Maybe he was in trouble.

The thought pulsed in his head like a migraine and Peter pushed it out quickly. No. No way. It was fine. Of course it was fine. If he were on a super secret mission he’d turn off his phone too. And it was okay because Tony always had a radio channel open linked directly to his suits. If something was really wrong, he’d reach out. 

Wouldn’t he? 

Peter forced himself to push his thoughts aside, going to sit at his desk, feeling almost like he was in a daze. The words of his Spanish book float in the air and don’t register in his head no matter how many times he reads them over. He kept his phone next to his notebook, jumping at it every time it vibrated. But it was never Tony. Instead of a notification, Peter refreshed his messaging app over and over but still the one check mark remained, a message that could never be read if it could never be received. 

Peter bit his lip. Glanced at the time. Still Thursday. It was still Thursday. Tony would be back tomorrow. His hand curled tighter around his phone. Tomorrow. He’d back. 

He had to be. 

Peter doesn’t sleep. He turns his phone onto the highest volume. Flips on Don’t Disturb and leaves Tony as the only green-lighted contact. He tries to shut his eyes but in the dark all he sees are infinite endings where there shouldn’t be and he sees Tony’s face, eyes pleading and he shoots up gasping. 

He checks his phone. 

Still no change.

Biting his lip, he buries himself into his pillow, clutching his phone tight to his chest. It should be okay. It has to be okay. It’s always been okay every other time, but Peter has a bad feeling in his heart, and he should have answered by now. He should have _answered_. 

He tosses and turns and his hopes build on each other, fervently, desperately. His alarm blares in his hands and he jolts awake, wild eyed as he digs into his sheets in a craze, fingers stuttering over the screen just to see the same grey checkmark. His heart hammers in his throat, his mouth wobbling. 

It’s Friday. 

So where is he? 

Where is he??

The question hangs in the gallows of his mind, he sees them when he sleeps, when he’s awake, when he does every little thing. 

They order shawarma. They sit at the table and hold vigil. When the stars light up the night from behind the thick smog of the city lights, Peter knows he isn’t coming home. 

_Mr. Stark? Are you okay? Are you still on your mission?_

_We’re worried._

Peter bites his lip. This isn’t the time to be worried about how he looks anymore.

_Please just let me know you’re okay._

The messages still don’t go through and Peter wants to scream. 

He calls Happy. Hears the phone ring, ring, ring before, “Kid?” Happy sounds tired.

Peter knows the feeling.

“Hey Happy. I just…I just wanted to call to see if you um, if you’ve heard from Mr. Stark at all lately. He told me he’d be back today but he uhh…he didn’t show.”

Happy’s quiet on the other end. Peter can hear his breathing, a sharp intake of breath that he doesn’t seem to let go. “Peter.”

He can feel his heart slam against his rib cage. It’s too fast. His heart’s beating too fast. It’s going to fly straight out of his chest. 

“Peter…we can’t find him.” 

His mouth goes dry. His heart beat drowns out the constant thrum of the city and Peter’s not sure he can feel the floor anymore. “What- what’you mean you can’t find him? He- he’s supposed to be meeting the other Avengers- how could they-”

“Something happened kid. I’m going to find out what. But for now, no one’s able to reach him or the other guys.” 

Peter doesn’t say anything. Can’t say anything.

“We’ll find him. You can count on that.” 

And Peter wants to believe him. Wants to desperately. Because he doesn’t know what to do if he’s wrong. 

It’s four days later when the news leaks out. Peter’s on the couch, typical of him now, all the energy that made him who he was sapped right out by the coil of worry in his stomach. The footage makes him nauseous. Bile rises up his throat and he presses his face between his knees gasping for air. 

This can’t be real. 

This can’t be real. 

“In breaking news, Tony Stark, better known as Iron Man, has been declared dead after being missing for four days. An informant recently came to CNN to reveal that the Stark had gone on a covert mission with the blessing of the US government to help the still fugitives of the law, the Rogue Avengers, in neutralizing a grave threat.”

“Unfortunately, while the team all reunited to fight their enemy, not all of them made it back.” 

Peter freezes.

He can feel his face sagging, his eyes widening, brows crumpling, fingers clawing at his cheeks. His mouth opens and closes, he thinks he’s mumbling something but he can’t be sure from how loud his heart is beating. It slams against his ribcage. It’s beating too fast. Too fast. Too fast. 

“After an explosion destroyed the compound the Avengers were invading, Tony Stark, otherwise known as Iron Man, was not seen exiting the building and upon a search of the ruins, only parts of his suit remained. Due to this tragedy and the fear of being left unprotected, the United Nations has voted to grant the Rogues temporary pardons until a more permanent solution can be arranged.” 

An image of the wreckage panned out, focusing on the Iron Man face plate, charred all on the left side. 

Peter can’t breathe. 

God his heart is beating so fast. 

No. There’s no way. There’s no way. 

No. 

No no no- _please_. 

“Millions of people everywhere are gathered together to mourn the loss of the Earth’s greatest hero who many say died in vain to help a group who didn’t deserve helping.” 

The TV clicks shut and Peter whirls around to see May, tears in her eyes, standing over him with the remote. “Peter.” her voice cracks and she reaches for him but Peter pulls away.

“No. No, why are you crying. He isn’t- Mr. Stark isn’t-” his tongue can’t shape the words and Peter lets everything unsaid hang in the air.

May’s expression shatters, her shoulders dropping. “Peter, sweetie, I know it’s hard, but we have to- we have to accept that he’s-”

“No!” Peter’s shouting surprises them both, May looking up with startled eyes.

“He’s still alive. I know he is! I know it!” 

“Peter.” May sobs, tears streaming down her face.

“Mr. Stark wouldn’t go out like that. There’s no way. They just didn’t look hard enough. And his suit! Where’s the rest of it! And the-” he couldn’t say it, he couldn’t say it. “There’s a chance he might still alive and you want to give up on him??” 

“Peter please.” May reaches for him again but Peter shakes his head, his blood pounding in his veins. 

He lurches back, staring at May with betrayed eyes before running straight out the door. He ignores May’s pleas to come back, feet pounding the floor like he’s trying to fall right into the center of the Earth. Everyone said Tony was dead. But did they even try?? They just- they just gave up! And Peter refuses to accept that. Can never stomach that. He’s going to find Tony. No matter what. 

And there’s only one way he can think of. 

Peter takes an Uber to the compound where he’s met with hundreds of mourners all holding candles and crying softly to themselves. Giant posters of Tony’s face and the Iron Man mask flap in the breeze and there are wreaths laid at the gates like a memorial. 

Peter wants to yell. “He’s not dead!” he wants scream, “He’s still alive! Get away from here! Get away!” 

But he knows the second he starts having a break down that security would be called down, which meant Happy, which meant trouble and no going through with his plan. Sucking in a breath though every bit of it hurt, Peter creeps around the crowd, going around the back to the drop-off entrance. It’s usually just used for supplies and imported gear, but Peter’s marginally confident his clearance would still hold up. He types in his code quickly and FRIDAY greets him warmly. 

For some reason her voice brings tears to his eyes and he wipes at them furiously. “FRIDAY. I need a favor.” 

With FRIDAY’s help, Peter navigates the corridors avoiding everyone and anyone. And, if he’s being really honest, just navigating the compound in general. He doesn’t often go up there. He prefers the Tower instead with its familiarity and isolation from the drama of the Rogues. But he also knows that while this would have been an easier mission in the Tower, it would be far more successful if done here. The only issue would be avoiding the newly repatriated Rogue Avengers. 

But Peter isn’t worried.

 _They_ should be worried about meeting _him_.

Carefully, Peter sneaks into the Comms Room, dozens of screens on the wall and a giant control panel at the wall’s base. This room controls what is arguably the most powerful satellite system in the world and a farther reaching radio than the Tower did. Which makes sense. The Tower wasn’t supposed to be home base for the world’s greatest heroes. 

Peter flips on all the lights, staring at all the buttons with a razor sharp focus. His vision narrows until all he can see are the controls, his senses dulling down for the first time since he’d heard the news. He doesn’t have time for distractions. He doesn’t have room in his brain for anything but this.

“FRIDAY.” He can’t even recognize his own voice, authoritative and short, “Lock the doors, keep this room on shut down I don’t want anyone in or out. If anyone comes this way let me know but _don’t_ let them in.”

“I’ll do my best Peter, but your security clearance can be overridden.” 

Peter scowls. Why isn’t he in the goddamn tower. Tony’s face flashes in his mind. 

Doesn’t matter. 

For Tony. 

For Tony.

For Tony.

First thing’s first, Peter flicks on Iron Man’s tracker, noting the distinct lack of a blinking dot. That was his first clue that something was amiss. That tracker was built to withstand fire, water, electrocution, crushing, literally any destructive activity would have a hard time destroying that thing and that was precisely the point. Even if Tony was- Peter took in a breath, even if Tony was dead, it would still blink. Which meant someone had found it and disabled it or had found it and deliberately destroyed it. If you were going to kill Iron Man, wouldn’t you want the world to find the body as proof?

The second thing Peter does is open up Tony’s communication line again. Peter’s fist trembles, head bowed in a seething anger. Why would they even turn it off? What was the point? He remembers the Battle of New York. How Tony latched onto that missile and flew it straight up into the portal. About how the camera footage showed Natasha closing the portal before Tony came back. About how his hero fell from the sky like an angel abandoned by heaven. They were always leaving him. They always left him behind. But Peter wouldn’t. Never. He’d never leave Tony Stark behind and he wouldn’t stop until he brought Tony home because there was no other option. None. 

Everything he had just done really wasn’t that big a deal, but when he turned off all projects and focused the entirety of FRIDAY’s capacity to searching for Tony, that was when he knew he’d create a problem. The power it took to scan through every camera system, data repository, chatter on the dark web, communications tech, and satellite systems was extraordinary. The second he launched his search, the entire room hummed and he could feel the heat of the processors start to rise. But nothing else mattered. Not one thing. If they couldn’t find Tony, then the Avengers wouldn’t be able to find anyone else.

They don’t deserve to play hero when they couldn’t save Peter’s. 

The last thing he does is send out a radio signal. He presses the button, taking in a deep breath. “Mr. Stark, I’m here. Answer with your location. Mr. Stark do you copy? Over.” 

With radio, it was all about frequency. This specific one is a channel Tony had designed for Peter if he ever got into a scrape. It wasn’t easy to make a phone or get into a satellite, but making a radio was child’s play for the two of them. Peter doesn’t know if Tony would think to use this channel if he _did_ have a makeshift radio, didn’t know if he would even think to look. But he could try. He’d try.

Which is more than what anyone else did.

“FRIDAY, keep that message playing on a loop. Contact me the second there’s any activity on anything.” 

And then Peter sits. And he waits. 

They come for him five hours later.

“FRIDAY?” 

“Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff are approaching the door.”

Peter’s voice is dark, eyes burning into the door. “Can they open it?” 

“Boss hasn’t reinstated their clearances yet, they can’t override you, but they can still break down the door.” 

Peter scoffed, “They can try.”

Steve has the manners to knock first.  
“Son, I’m going to need you to open up the door.”

Peter leans back in his chair, swiveling around. “No can do Cap. Sorry!” 

“Peter, I know you’re upset about Tony.” his voice drops, “We all are. But you’re holding onto something that isn’t healthy.” And the ball drops, “Tony wouldn’t want you to be stuck in the past for him kid.”

Peter lurches up from his seat, ramming himself into the door, hoping Steve jumped on the other side. “Don’t call me that.” he hisses, “And don’t talk about what Tony wants as though you have any right to talk about it. Tony isn’t dead and you just left him there. You left him! He would’ve never stopped looking for you if it was the other way around and now you want me to give up on him too, but I won’t! I’m never giving up on him.” 

“You have to get out of there eventually.” Natasha says, cool and certain. 

“Have fun waiting.” Peter replies flippantly. 

Another bang on the door, “Peter this isn’t a game. You’re messing with dangerous equipment.”

“Yeah! Mr. Stark’s equipment! He built everything inside of here and you’re using all his tech as though you guys deserve any of it!” 

“FRIDAY open the door.”

“Request denied.”

Peter looks up at the ceiling as though trying to say thank you. 

He can hear someone fiddling with the card key lock on the door. Probably Natasha. He doesn’t know if she has the ability to bypass the security, but he doesn’t care either way. If they wanted a fight, he’d give them one. 

He stands in the centre of the room, just staring at the rattling door. It only takes two kicks before it slams open and Steve enters the room. “I’m not letting you turn off the signal.” Peter says, raising his chin. 

Steve tightens his jaw. “You want a stand-off? I can do this all day.”

Peter rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I heard.”

Natasha breezes past him, walks right to the controls before Peter blocks her, looking her hard in the eye. “FRIDAY, cancel Peter Parker’s security clearance.” Steve commands.

“I’m sorry Captain Rogers, you do not have permission to do that. Only Mr. Stark has that authority.”

“Tony’s dead.” Natasha answers coldly.

Peter’s blood pounds. 

“Tony Stark is alive.” FRIDAY says and suddenly, Peter can’t breathe.

“What did you say?” he looks up at the ceiling, “FRIDAY! Where’s Tony??”

Right on cue, the screen flashes, the GPS locking onto smaller and smaller targets until it circles a patch of forest fifty miles west of the base the Avengers had broken into. “-base, anyone copy? Could use a lift, hey free-loaders!”

Peter’s eyes water as his lungs inflate with a breath right before a gasp of relief. He stumbles to the microphone, finger stuttering in the air before pressing hard on the button. “Mr. Stark?? Mr. Stark is that you?” 

Tony’s breath shudders, “Peter? That you? What are you doing at the compound?”

“Looking for you.” Peter cries, the tears dribbling down his cheeks as he laughs helplessly.

“Well if you want to send a jet over to pick me up, that’d be great. I don’t know where I am but I’m sure you can triangulate the signal from the radio I stole.” 

“Are you okay?? How bad are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry about me Peter, I’ll be fine.”

Peter closes his eyes, bowing his head against the panel board. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” he whispers, so close to breaking down right there, “Everyone else thought you were dead, but I knew…I knew.” 

“I’ll be back before you know it Peter.” 

Peter can’t even bear to leave the comms room, but he shoots one triumphant look at the Rogues before it melts into a glare. “You were going to abandon him.” he accuses, before turning and running out the door.

He tells FRIDAY to call Happy. Rhodey’s busy searching the area himself, not content to let anyone tell him his best friend was dead until he made sure himself, but Peter makes sure he sent a message and just hopes he would receive it. Happy meets him at the hangar in half an hour and the two of them fly out to Tony’s coordinates, anticipation tying knots in Peter’s stomach and giving him so much anxiety his lips bleed from how hard he bites them.

The jet makes a fuss as it lands, destroying boughs and branches and sending leaves and debris flying everywhere. But it makes enough of a ruckus that Tony is sure to notice them. Peter rushes out the plane, looking everywhere for some sign of his mentor when he hears rustling from the forest. On cue, Tony walks out, limping on his left foot, clutching his arm to his chest with a battered radio in his hand. There are bruises running down the side of his neck and up to his jaw and blood splatter on his clothes and forehead. 

But he’s alive. 

He’s alive he’s alive he’s _alive_. 

And that’s all Peter cares about. 

Every single in the entire world doesn’t matter as much as that fact does. 

“Mr. Stark.” he cries, his shoulders shaking as he runs to him, arms outstretched for a hug.

He’s so happy he could burst. So relieved he wanted to fall to his knees and pray. So beyond grateful that Tony wasn’t taken from him like his nightmares always taunted him with. 

He’s so happy. But the second Peter’s arms wrap around him, every hair on his body pricks up and the back of his neck feels like it’s on fire. Tony’s hands slither like snakes around him and his hand doesn’t cup the back of Peter’s head like he usually does, and Peter feels the world fade away until he can hear only his breath and Tony’s heartbeat. 

Tony’s heartbeat used to calm him. 

Tethered him. 

He would know Tony’s heartbeat at the end of the world. In the loudest of rooms. In the middle of everywhere. 

Peter’s breathing comes in hard, he pulls away, looks at Tony’s face. Every hair on his beard is perfectly in place, his hair leaning to the side exactly the way it always had, his eyes are the same, thick-lashed and browner than the earth but when Peter looks inside them, the back of his neck prickles hotter and hotter.

Petr slaps a hand over it, taking a step back. 

Tony- not Tony- smiles at him, “You did good kid.” he praises, in Tony’s exact voice, the same breaths, same inflection, same upward turn of his lip when he says ‘kid.’ 

Tony waves his hand up, looking past him, “Hap!” he yells and Happy just shakes his head, grinning.

“You really want to give us all heart attacks huh Tony?” 

Tony shrugs, palms flat in the air in his usual pose, “Just wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t.” he jokes as he claps Happy on the back in a quick hug. 

He turns around, catches Peter’s eye. “Come on kid, I need at least five cups of coffee and a cell-phone because the people I ran from are _not_ gonna be happy.” 

Peter shakes his head erratically, too slow, too fast, he doesn’t- he doesn’t know- he doesn’t understand. Tony- but not Tony- it can’t be Tony?? He doesn’t know- looks at him with concern, “You feeling alright?” he turns around, “Happy, did something happen to Peter when I was gone?”

“No.” Peter calls, “No I’m…” what? Fine??? “okay. I’m okay- just a- just a headache.” 

Tony furrows his brows, purses his lips like he does when he can tell Peter’s lying and Peter’s heart snaps right in two because that’s _Tony’s face_ and that’s Tony’s move and that’s Tony’s everything but that isn’t Tony. 

That’s not his Tony. 

The man grips the back of Peter’s neck and squeezes. “Let’s go home Peter. We’re gonna be okay.” 

But Peter knows he’s lying. 

He can hear it in his heart beat.

**Author's Note:**

> and so the plot thickens...


End file.
